We Were Made For Each Other
by lectersteddygraham
Summary: (Multiple-Chapter Season 5/6/7 AU) First in a series of three stories entitled "Of Angels and Men". This section begins with Sam trapped in the Cage, and centers around Lucifer's plans for him. Samifer, with a hearty smidgen of Destiel. WARNINGS: language, torture, sex (some non-con). This is a work in progress; reviews are appreciated.
1. Hellfire

Sam Winchester – or what was left of him – sat slumped over on the dirty ground, his hands chained above him to the wall, his body covered in dirt and dust, his features littered with wounds, and his dark eyes tired and broken. It had been a few days since he had seized control and leaped into the Hell Gate, pulling Michael with him, and each day had been the same.

He had seen no sign of Michael, Adam, or anyone else for that matter. His head ached; his body felt like a thousand white-hot knives were twisting slowly inside of him, and his memories were tattered and painful. He wished he could breathe without the sulfurous air burning his lungs. He wished he could stand up and escape, fight back and emerge victorious. If nothing else, he wished he was _dead_. The infinite screams of the distant damned and the laughter of their black-eyed masters echoed in his ears, driving him to the edge of stability.

He was broken, teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown, his senses screaming. The hellfire around him licked at his flesh. His vision swam and he was on the verge of falling back into unconsciousness when he heard the soft rustle of wings and was blinded by a burst of light, his eyes watering from the unusual brightness.

"Hello, Sam," said a calm voice in front of him. "I've been looking for you for a very long time."

Sam raised his eyes to the source of the voice. His heart began to quicken, his pulse racing in utter terror. "Lucifer," he gasped hoarsely, his body erupting into a painful fit of coughing. Every fiber of his being feared the fallen archangel, resented him for what he had done to his piss-poor excuse for a life.

The angel knelt down beside him, his emotionless blue eyes studying the hunter's torn features, flickering briefly with what could be mistaken for concern. "Sam. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to protect you." As if to emphasize his point, the shackles around the Winchester's bruised wrists snapped off, his arms falling loosely into his lap as he hunched over in another fit of coughing.

"No," Sam whispered weakly, "You stay the hell away from me." His words were shaky, and he collapsed from his sitting position onto the floor, tears streaming down his face as his body convulsed with sobs and agonizing pain. He felt the fires burning around him flare up, the heat scorching his face. The wings rustled again.

As if sensing his weakened state, torrents of black smoke began to pour in through the grates beneath him, surrounding him, tearing at his flesh and vying for his soul. He screamed. With his last ounce of energy, he turned his gaze once again on the angel, his eyes desperate, begging to be spared, but Lucifer was gone. A tremendous wave of fiery pain overtook the hunter, and he felt his soul begin to tear. His vision faded to black.


	2. Locked and Caged

When Sam awoke, his first thought was that he was still at that one motel in Ohio with Dean – the sub-par roadside with the stained sheets and the unscented soap – and that he'd better haul his sorry ass out of bed and get to work before it was too late to solve this particular series of unexplainable deaths.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes, turning his face towards the dim sliver of orange light shining through the dusty curtains. Orange light that was _moving. _And _crackling._ His breath caught in his throat as a rush of realization and panic overtook him. He was still in hell. Dean was gone, Ohio was worlds away, and good God, he'd give anything to be on the case again.

As the memories of what now felt like centuries ago began to be pushed out of his mind by his more gruesome and painful recollections of late, the hunter let his head fall into his scraped palms, running dirty hands through hair that had gotten too long. As his breathing began to slow, he forced himself to raise his head and examine his surroundings.

For all it was worth, what could only be the latest form of torture that had been devised for him sure did _look_ like that one motel in Ohio. Confused by this, Sam tentatively got up from the rumpled sheets of the bed, making his way through the dark room towards the door. He put his cheek against the cool wood, and as he expected, was greeted with the crackling and hissing of the all-too-familiar hellfire.

Cursing under his breath, the hunter felt along the wall for a light switch. After finding that it worked (to his surprise), he began searching the room for any sign as to _why _he was trapped in this strange place. His mind, throughout the many hell-years he had suffered in torture chambers and burning in flames, had become hardened and inevitably untrustworthy. Whatever conclusion he attempted to draw, he could only foresee more agony.

The room was surprisingly bare; no soap in the musty bathroom and no papers in the bedside table. Frustrated, the hunter paced back and forth on the dirty carpeted floor, wracking his memories for any clues. He remembered being chained in his cell, on the verge of madness when…Lucifer had appeared to him. Sam's eyes grew wide with understanding. Lucifer had put him here, rehabilitating him from the demons' tortures because he wanted to tear him apart again himself.

Frightened, Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. Just when he thought he was safe…that maybe the angels hadn't forgotten about him…that maybe his own fucking _brother_ hadn't forgotten about him…they pulled him right back into their sadistic torture and infectious madness. He leaned back onto the bed and shut his eyes tightly, clinging on to every beautiful memory he had left. Jessica and his time at Stanford. Going to bars with Dean like they were _normal_ brothers, and not victims of something so much bigger than they were. Castiel and his inability to grasp Dean's jokes. The way that his brother and his angel looked at each other.

Sam felt the tears begin to surface as he realized with a sinking stomach that he would never relive these memories again. He didn't know how long he had before Lucifer came and tortured him beyond repair, before he became nothing more than that laughing black smoke with no remorse or regard for a past life. He turned his face into the stained sheets and inhaled their scent, his tears wetting the surrounding fabric.

Slowly, lost in memories and fear, the hunter began to drift off. Eventually his breathing slowed, and his tears stopped. In his sleeping state, he was unaware of the familiar rustle of wings behind him.

The fallen angel stood watching Sam for a long time, his ragged golden wings trailing loosely behind him, his blank blue eyes fixed on the Winchester. He stayed this way for hours while the hunter slept, watching and waiting. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, the angel disappeared with a flash of light.

When the younger Winchester awoke, the scrapes on his hands were gone, the gashes across his face and arms healed. The pounding in his head had disappeared and the aches of his muscles had subsided. The hunter sat up on the bed, running a hand over his face and glancing around wearily. Something in the corner of his vision caught his eye.

On the floor by the burning window lay a tattered golden feather.


	3. A Little Truth Never Hurt Anyone

**Part III: A Little Truth Never Hurt Anyone**

Sam's breathing froze and his hands clenched at the bed sheets around him as his eyes stayed glued to the motionless feather. In a confused panic, he whipped his head around just in time to see Lucifer standing at the foot of the bed. "Hello, Sam," the angel said with a hint of a smile. He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned against the wall, his wings rustling as he did so.

Sam sat frozen with fear for what seemed like forever before he weakly croaked, "You…you're the one that brought me here. To this room." He slid off the side of the bed and stepped back, putting distance between himself and the angel until his back hit the wall, as if that would somehow save him.

"I told you already, Sam. I'm just trying to protect you," his brow furrowed and he took a step towards the hunter. "Why can't you understand that?"

Sam's jaw almost dropped in pure disbelief and he laughed dryly. "You are the _reason_ I am here in the first place…I lost my entire life because of you. Do you really expect me to _trust_ you?"

Lucifer tilted his head to one side as if in question, looking slightly hurt by Sam's accusation. "Sam…"

"No," the hunter interjected. "What have you ever done for me? Why should I believe _anything_ you say?" He was disgusted.

"I know this is hard for you to understand. We haven't been in the most ideal situations together lately, but…let me show you, Sam."

Before the Winchester could react, the angel was inches away from him. He placed his hand on the hunter's forehead, and with a flash of golden light, the world vanished and Sam's eyes rolled up into his head as he fell back onto the motel bed, motionless.

_It was shortly after the Universes were created, and the Citadel of Inner Heaven was shimmering white and pristine in the evening sunset. The air was filled with the sound of rustling wings and sweet melodies, the warm breeze carrying with it the scent of spices and holy oils. As the sun went down beyond the Great Mountain, a lone figure stood in the grassy courtyard silhouetted against the dimming light, his great wings folded against his white tunic and his head tilted towards the twinkling sky. As the stars grew brighter in the darkened sky, so too did the angel become brighter. His great wings spread out behind him, their golden feathers catching the starlight and shimmering with an ethereal glow that illuminated the meadow with speckled light. He was the most beautiful angel in all the heavens, and he shone brighter than all the others ever would. He was the Morning Star in the endless night sky, the beacon amongst millions of others._

_The golden angel once again stood in the flowing meadow, with his face to the stars. A second angel, with dark hair and eyes like obsidian, approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I knew I would find you here, little brother," he said softly. _

_The younger angel turned to face his brother with a smile on his face. "Have you come to join me, Michael?"_

_Michael smiled fondly at his younger brother, and shook his head. "I wish that I could, but I am here on business from the Citadel." His smile faltered and he removed his hand from the younger angel's shoulder. _

_The brother's eyes widened._

_Michael's features darkened and he gazed off into the horizon as he spoke, his voice barely exceeding a whisper. "He is angry with you, Lucifer. You disobeyed His orders. That cannot be done without consequences. Surely you understand that."_

_Lucifer grabbed his brother's hands and looked into his dark eyes pleadingly. "It is a sin to lie, Michael. And yet so many of you did today. You lied and pretended they were divine and perfect, just as Father said. But bowing down before the…new creation…would have been unholy in the eyes of the Law! They are an abomination, brother, open your eyes! They are the opposite of us!" His blue eyes glowed with fiery determination and resistance._

_Michael retained his steely gaze and clenched his jaw. "How dare you renounce Him…your Father…no, brother. You are worse than the humans will ever be. You are the abomination, not them. Father was right. You were born to come to ruin." _

_Stung by his brother's words, Lucifer stepped back, the fire in his eyes replaced with pain and fear. "Michael…no, please…" The words caught in his throat and he felt a tear roll down his cheek._

_Michael said nothing more. With uncanny speed and strength, he grabbed his younger brother and pulled him towards him, placing a hand on his chest. A flash of golden light illuminated the meadow, and with an agonizing scream, Lucifer vanished, leaving his brother alone under the twinkling night sky._

_The once-beautiful angel fell from Heaven at an unfathomable speed, unable to speak or move, his terrified screams stuck in his throat. The universes flashed by him as he tumbled downward, the ravenous wind tearing at his golden wings and ripping them. He fell for ages on end, enduring unspeakable agony as he did so. What had once been biting sadness and regret for his actions quickly turned to burning rage and an insatiable appetite for revenge, corrupting his heart and mind. Even after he descended into the fiery depths of the world which he despised, he never forgot the betrayal of his brother, whom he had loved and trusted with his life, and who had cast him out of his home as if he meant nothing._

Sam awoke with a start, inhaling sharply and sitting up on the bed. "What the hell was that?" he gasped, his mind still spinning as he tried to grasp what he had seen. When there was no reply, he looked around the room, but found that the angel had once again disappeared.


	4. Time Stands Still

Sam turned his face up into the hot spray of water from the shower head, closing his eyes as he let his tense muscles relax. It had taken him a long while before he finally decided to force himself to get up from the bed, and he was rather surprised when he found out that the shower even worked at all. His original intention was to distract himself in any way possible from thoughts of Lucifer and what he had showed him, but to no avail. In fact, he could think of little else.

The Winchester was torn between feelings of repulsion and regretful empathy, his hunter instincts sending thousands of red flags and his heart whispering, "You have a brother too, what if he had done those things to you?" And he couldn't help but feel a stab of pity. But he couldn't afford to think like that, no fucking way. He shook his head and clenched his teeth, trying to harden his emotions. What the hell would Dean think if he saw him like this, pitying the enemy, the very monster who had torn their lives apart? No, he wouldn't let Lucifer win again, he wouldn't let him get to him like that. With his newfound resolve and all traces of empathy gone, Sam stepped out of the shower, running the off-white towel through his too-long hair.

He turned to face the mirror, realizing that he had not seen a reflection of himself in a very long time.

He looked…the same. Despite the new, hollow look in his eyes, he didn't appear to have physically changed much. He turned his body, looking for traces of gashes, bruises, anything indicating the tortures he had undergone…nothing. Puzzled by this, he began to realize that he felt no pain at all, no sore muscles or throbbing wounds. He tentatively pulled his undershirt over his head and buttoned up his flannel, never taking his weary eyes off of his reflection. After he had dressed, he slowly grasped the door handle and placed his ear against the wood, listening. Hearing nothing, he opened the door quickly, half expecting to be assaulted by that vile black smoke, to be dragged to some dark room to be broken all over again. But the room was the same as it had always been, cold and musty and eerily reminiscent of that motel in Ohio.

Sam exhaled and ran a hand through his damp hair. _What the hell is going on here, _he thought to himself. He knew that Lucifer had plucked him out of the demons' reach and placed him here, but why wasn't he being tortured? He closed his eyes and drew upon his earlier memories from his time in the Cage, before the other demons had gotten ahold of him and broken him. He remembered Lucifer's rage, he remembered Michael's screams as his younger brother destroyed him, piece by piece, ripping him apart and then putting him back together only to begin the vicious cycle again. But Lucifer, in all his violent fervor, had not touched Sam.

"Done reminiscing, Sammy?" asked Lucifer from behind him. The angel's lips were curled into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling.

Sam whirled around, his fears left behind in a flurry of anger and confusion. "What the hell do you want with me?!" He yelled, his pulse increasing. "And don't give me that 'I'm trying to protect you' bullshit. I've had enough of your lies and everything you've put me through." His chest rose and fell and his fists clenched at his sides.

Lucifer advanced towards Sam until he was merely inches from him. He placed a hand on his chest and pushed the hunter until his back hit the wall behind him. Sam felt the Devil's cold breath on his face, shuddering as a calloused hand closed around his throat. "I do not lie, Sam. And you will not question the things that I say and do, because here you are nothing, here you belong to me. You are safe because I made it so, and I can take that away whenever I want. Do you understand?"

Sam groaned in response, coughing violently as Lucifer's hand loosened its grip. "Such a petty and ungrateful thing you are, Sam. After all I've done for you." Lucifer smirked and brought his hand up to stroke Sam's hair, running his fingers through it with a look of intense fascination. He tilted his head to the side like a wolf observing his prey, curious and amused. "I'm sorry things had to happen like this, Sam. I truly am." He moved his hand down to Sam's jaw, cupping his face in his palm and running his cold fingers down his temple. His eyes were bright and vivid and he gazed at Sam's terrified face.

Sam's skin crawled with repulsion, and he pushed Lucifer away violently. "Don't. Touch. Me." He hissed. A shiver ran down his spine and he quickly moved away from the angel. "Leave me alone, please," he pleaded. His anger had faded, leaving him desperate and afraid. "Just stay away from me."

Lucifer's eyes had a slightly hurt look and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Remember what I promised you? That I would never truly hurt you. And I'm sticking to that, Sam." He assumed his usual bored expression and looked around the room. "Do you like my latest creation? I assumed you'd had enough of the usual fire and brimstone, so I thought I'd give you something a little more comfortable. Consider it your home away from home." Lucifer winked playfully.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked. He saw little point to the Devil's actions, be it for torture or not. And if it _was_ torture, and he had had plenty of experience, none of the demons he had ever been a victim of had ever toyed with him like this. "And for the record, this is _nothing _like my home. My home is on Earth, with Dean and Cas. Not in a little piece of hell that you created especially for me." Sam felt his anger returning slowly, creeping up like a dangerous animal to consume him again.

"No, no, you're right, Sam," the angel replied, "But you're also very mistaken about one thing. Your home _was_ with Dean, but not anymore. Dean has moved on. He has forgotten about you." Lucifer leaned against the wall, his shimmering wings adjusting as he did so. He cast his eyes downward, as if lost in some far off memory. "They always leave you, Sam. They will always betray you, just as they have always betrayed me. We're not so different, you and I."

Sam was taken aback by this. "I am _nothing_ like you, don't you dare think we are the same. Dean would never leave me; he promised he would try everything to bring me back again. I know that he's up there now, trying to find a way." His words seemed to catch in his throat when he said Dean's name, and he felt a flutter of doubt. Surely his brother was looking for him…right?

A shadow of a smirk crossed Lucifer's features, as if he sensed Sam's second guessing. "It hurts me to tell you this, Sam, but Dean isn't going to save you. In fact, he's realized that he's so much better off with you gone." He laughed darkly. "He's replaced you with that peculiar little angel…Castiel, I believe? Yes, him and Castiel have become quite the couple. You should see it, Sam, the way they fuck in the back of that car like – ".

"SHUT UP!" Sam yelled, furious. "YOU'RE LYING!" But he knew the truth. Deep down inside of him, where that little dark part of his soul had always lay in hiding, he knew that Lucifer was telling the truth. And it hurt him. It ripped his heart in two with a serrated knife, and it burned at the remains with a pain worse than a thousand years in hellfire. Defeated once again, Sam Winchester sank to the floor, ashamed to feel the tears streaming down his face.

Lucifer knelt down in front of him, his wings rustling as they dragged across the dirty carpet. "You're better off here, Sam. With me. I'm all you have left. I can help you, but you have to let me in."

His chest heaving with sobs, Sam shook his head. "No," he whispered defiantly. He had nothing left, the angel was right. But he was not about to give in; he would fight back. Because that's what Dean would want him to do. He choked back his remaining tears and pushed Lucifer away from him. "Back off," he hissed.

Lucifer's eyes glowed with rage and sick enjoyment. "Now, now, Sammy, let's play nice. Remember that I am the one holding the key here."

Sam laughed weakly. "I think you're all talk. I don't think you can do anything to me, and do you wanna know why? Because you're fucking pathetic." His heart pounded in his chest. He heard Dean's voice inside his head: _c'mon Sam, what were you thinking? You can't taunt the devil and walk away in one piece._ Sam ignored the voice. He was too angry to care anymore.

As if on cue, Lucifer's wings flashed behind him and the light bulb in the center of the room burst into hundreds of pieces, causing Sam to shield his eyes. He felt the heat of the fire before he saw its orange flames devouring their way across the floor, licking across his skin and boiling his blood. Sam screamed in agony, his vision going white. He smelled the burning flesh and heard the sizzling of his tissues, his entire being in excruciating pain, and then the flames were gone. It had been for maybe a few minutes, and yet it was enough.

"Don't EVER speak to me in that way again," Lucifer hissed, yanking Sam off the ground by the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall.

Sam nodded fervently, his eyes downcast and fearful. He felt a stinging pain when Lucifer's rough hand collided with his jaw, sending his head snapped to the side.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Sam," the angel purred, his tone innocent and deadly.

Sam raised his eyes tentatively. He croaked out a feeble "sorry".

Lucifer smiled gently, "I don't think you really are, Sam. But I admire your attitude, I really do." He winked. "Although…I don't think the fire really got the point across, do you?" He snapped his fingers, and Sam felt his muscles constrict, his movements slowed and heavy. "You're going to have to learn to behave yourself," he hissed. Sam was unable to escape this time when Lucifer pressed him against the wall, leaning his cold forehead against the hunter's, his hands coming up to caress the Winchester's neck. Sam shivered, deathly terrified under the Devil's seductive touch.

"Sam," Lucifer breathed, his voice silky and dripping with lust and deadly poison, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, shining with malice. "I have waited so long for this." Sam felt the angel's grace reaching out to him, vibrating and humming on the edge of his consciousness, its warmness contrasting with the cold touch of Lucifer's hands. The angel's lips were pressed to Sam's before he could react. The kiss was gentle, soft, and full of longing, and soon Lucifer's hand was entwined in Sam's hair as he pulled his head back, exposing his neck and deepening the kiss. As his forked tongue explored Sam's mouth, tasting every inch of it, he pressed his body closer, feeling the heat radiate from the hunter.

Sam struggled and groaned under Lucifer's kiss, unable to break free, his senses screaming in alarm and repulsion. The hunter was trapped, helpless, weak and miserable beneath the Devil's power. He closed his eyes and tightened his fists, his nails digging little red crescents into his palms as his pulse quickened.

There was a flurry of wingbeats and brief confusion, and then Sam realized that he was lying on the motel bed, his fists still tightly clenched. He felt the weight of Lucifer's body draped over him, and he shuddered under the touch of his hands as they explored the surface of his body. The angel's face was aglow with fascination as he touched his true vessel, the hazy shadow of his golden wings shimmering behind him. Then without warning, as if remembering his intentions, he kissed Sam again, harder this time. The hunter squirmed and writhed beneath him, clawing at Lucifer's back in a feeble attempt to break free.

The Devil grabbed Sam's hands and pinned them forcefully to the pillow above the hunter's head and Sam soon discovered they had been tied, leaving him helpless and screaming beneath the angel's rough kisses and darting, forked tongue.

Sam's entire being screamed in protest as Lucifer's hands began to unbutton his blue flannel, tossing it aside. With a vicious tear, Sam's undershirt was torn off, leaving his naked torso exposed. For a brief second, Lucifer sat up, gazing in fascination at Sam's muscular frame. He ran his hand over his chest, lingering briefly to trace the outline of the tattoo before smirking. "Tsk, tsk, Sammy. What would Saint Dean think of you now?" He laughed darkly.

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Lucifer silenced him with another hard blow to his cheek. "Not now, Sam, I'm not finished with you yet." He grinned innocently, like a tomcat toying with its doomed supper, and snapped his fingers. The rest of Sam's clothes disappeared, along with his own. Sam's eyes grew wide with terror at the realization of what was going to happen. This could not be real. God no, it couldn't be. He shut his eyes tightly.

Still smirking, Lucifer brought his mouth down on Sam's once again, his tongue flitting into the hunter's mouth as he gently bit his lip. Lucifer's hand moved down Sam's thigh, and Sam jolted as he felt a cold hand close around his cock. Lucifer began to stroke it, slowly at first, curiously judging Sam's defiant reactions.

Sam opened his eyes as Lucifer's grip tightened, his breath had begun to quicken involuntarily and he felt the blood begin to rush down. What started out as pangs of unwanted pleasure gradually morphed into insatiable waves of mortifying ecstasy, causing the hunter to arch his back and moan weakly. Lucifer grinned against Sam's lips, whispering into his ear, "My, my, Sammy, you dirty boy…"

Sam moaned again, helpless as Lucifer continued to work his cock, faster this time. Sam's pupils dilated and his lips parted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He felt himself beginning to peak, but the strokes stopped just before he released. He lay gasping, his hands still tied above him and his body slicked with sweat.

Lucifer sat back, examining Sam, lying helpless before him. "You liked that, didn't you Sam?" He brought his hand up to Sam's throbbing cock, rubbing his palm in the pre-come before moving down to stroke his own member, coating it with Sam's fluids. "So did I," he breathed as he moved himself in between Sam's legs. "And I don't think you've quite learned your lesson yet."

Lucifer brought his hand up to cover Sam's screams as he pushed into him slowly, his own pupils dilating with lust and anticipation. He thrust into the hunter, savoring how Sam's warmth enveloped him, sending vibrations of pleasure through his frame that reverberated out through his shuddering wings. He gradually began to quicken his thrusts, ignoring Sam's screams and the tears streaming from his hazel eyes and down his glistening face. The Devil yanked Sam up without breaking his pace so that he was closer to him, pressing the hunter's back against the bed frame and freeing his arms with a snap of his fingers.

Sam's hands fell to his sides, clutching the bed sheets in both pain and pleasure as the Devil fucked him, the sensation of it filling up his being and overwhelming him. Resistance was futile, and he knew it. He turned his helpless gaze to Lucifer, whose blue eyes were inches from his own. The angel gripped Sam's face and kissed him roughly, and combined with the feeling of Lucifer's cock pounding into him, he moaned desperately and involuntarily gripped the angel's muscled back, feeling his nails dig in and break the skin.

Sam felt his own pleasure begin to build and he whimpered as he began to stroke himself, praying desperately both for his own release and for it all to be over. The angel smirked. "Good boy, Sam," he breathed. "Now tell me how much you want it." His hand entwined itself in Sam's hair, causing a weak groan to escape from his exposed throat. In fear of what further disobedience would earn him, Sam wound his fists in the sheets and gasped, "Fuck me…please…"

Lucifer brought his mouth to Sam's ear, thrusting deeper into the Winchester as he did so, causing Sam to cry out. "Good, Sam, very good," he whispered silkily.

Sam felt as if he was about to explode, the pain from the thrusts subsiding but the unwanted pleasure growing immensely, consuming him and slicking his body with sweat. He pumped his cock faster in his hand as Lucifer's forked tongue flitted across his neck.

Suddenly, as if becoming seized by a newfound rage, Lucifer quickened his pace, fucking Sam as hard as he possibly could while sweat poured down his face, his wild eyes fixated on the hunter who was writhing beneath him. Sam clutched the angel's arm tightly, his lips parted and eyes wide. He felt his body begin to tremble as he reached his peak. "Lucifer," he gasped as he came, moaning and convulsing as he did so, scratching his curled fingers down the angel's back, leaving jagged red tracks. In the haze of his pleasure, Sam felt Lucifer too begin to tremble.

As he emptied himself inside of the hunter, his grace radiating from his being, casting his naked frame in an ethereal glow as his wings spread out around him, Sam couldn't help but moan again. Breathing heavily, Lucifer slowly pulled out of Sam, collapsing across the hunter's limp frame. They stayed this way for a brief moment before the pleasure haze began to clear and Sam began to tremble with the realization of what had happened. His heart and stomach lurched simultaneously.

Lucifer propped himself up on Sam's chest with his elbows, stroking the hunter's hair. "You're such a good boy, Sammy," he purred, "my perfect little boy."

It was then that Sam cracked. All thoughts of consequences gone from his mind, he raised his fist and threw all of his remaining energy as his hand collided with Lucifer's cheek, the crack echoing throughout the room. There was a brief moment of stunned silence before the angel raised his head, blood dripping from his vessel's lip, staining his teeth. His rage was unfathomable. Sam spent days in torture, the flames melting the skin off of his bones and boiling his blood.


End file.
